


Audience Participation in Sequential Media

by PutItBriefly



Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-08
Updated: 2013-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-28 14:15:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/675312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PutItBriefly/pseuds/PutItBriefly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes William Darcy one month to exhaust his patience for a life without Elizabeth Bennet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Audience Participation in Sequential Media

**Audience Participation in Sequential Media**

 

He keeps his distance.

 

Though he interfered with Wickham’s plans for Lizzie’s sake, Darcy does not wish for his actions to cause her to feel indebted to him.  It’s a strange impasse he finds himself in.  Though he wants his actions to color her opinion of him, he’s wary of what that would actually entail.

 

Her happiness is his first concern; vengeance for Gigi, second.  At a distant fourth, he supposes Lizzie’s little sister doesn’t deserve to have Wickham’s specter haunting her the rest of her life.  (Reason #3 is Lizzie again; he doesn’t want her relationships with her sisters to suffer like his own relationship with Gigi had.)

 

Darcy doesn’t trust Lizzie to know.  If anything were to happen between them -- and he may be misreading her yet again, but he feels they have crossed some important threshold -- a part of him would always be dissatisfied.  He would forever wonder how much of his happiness was Lizzie’s as well, and how much of it was misplaced gratitude.

 

The temptation, however, to reveal himself as Lydia’s savior, Lizzie’s knight, is strong.  He is sure should she know the truth, Lizzie would open herself up to him.  He wants her dearly, and more often than not, he finds it difficult to not want her selfishly.

 

He keeps his distance.

 

Lizzie calls him.  Frequently, at first, and with determined hands, he sets his phone aside and does not answer.  

 

The calls taper off, and cease.  It takes Lizzie two weeks to give up trying to reach him by phone or text.  He studiously avoids Twitter and Facebook, just to be safe.  Her diaries, however public, are somehow incredibly intimate examples of storytelling and are thus absolutely off-limits.  

 

It takes William Darcy one month to exhaust his patience for a life without Elizabeth Bennet.

 

***  Duh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh YEAH! ***

 

It is Lydia Bennet that opens the door, hair lighter and movements more subdued than to which he is accustomed.  She grins slowly at him, conspiratorially.  Darcy nods stiffly once, acknowledging the secret between them.

 

"You want Lizzie?" she questions, and not waiting for the answer, turns and screams, "LIZZIE, GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE!"

 

Darcy winces.  Though uninvited, he steps into the foyer.  It is only Lydia's lack of social graces that have prevented her from inviting him inside.  Lydia retreats further, wandering closer to the stairs as Darcy stands by the door, hands clasped in front of him.

 

Tossing her head and making a deeply annoyed sound in her throat, Lydia stalks towards the stairs, again shouting, "LIZZIE!"

 

Lizzie's voice wafts from above.  "I'm busy!"

 

Lydia huffs.  She bounces on her heels.  "It's important!" she whines.  She bends at the knee, like a runner about to bound across a track before abruptly spinning to face Darcy.  Her smile is wide and toothy.  "Wait right here!" she commands.

 

And then she thunders up the stairs.

 

Beneath, abandoned in the foyer, Darcy can hear the sound of a scuffle and Lizzie's irritation at being dragged away from the duty to which she was attending.  She repeats a mantra "What?" over and over, unanswered, until finally, she appears at the top of the stairs.

 

"Darcy."  Her shock is clear in both her tone and expression.  Though he considered it last summer, Darcy has never sought Lizzie out in her home before.  Lizzie shrugs her arm out of Lydia's suddenly relaxed grip.

 

"Told ya," the younger sister sing-songs, coyly tucking limp hair behind one ear.

 

"You did not --" Lizzie begins fiercely.

 

Quite without intending to, Darcy interrupts Lizzie's righteous indignation when a quiet plea of her name escapes his lips.  This draws the attention of both sisters back to their guest.  His grip on his own clasped hands becomes tight, knuckles turning white.

 

Lydia rolls her eyes, the movement completed by her entire head, as Lizzie descends the stairs.  She smiles, a smile Darcy recognizes as not happy, but uncertain.  The smile of someone who smiles when uncomfortable, and is wary of those who do not share the predilection.  He has experience with this smile, weeks of lovelorn misinterpretation.

 

"You haven't been answering your phone," Lizzie says cautiously, "or calling back."

 

He shuffles.  "My apologies."

 

Lizzie nods, slowly.  Her uncertain smile recedes.  "So..."

 

"I hope you are well," Darcy offers.

 

Lizzie turns back, looking up the staircase at Lydia.  "Yeah, we, um...we're good.  Getting there," she amends.  Lizzie turns back to him and blinks, as though she is trying to decide how much she trusts her own statement.

 

"I'm glad."  Playing along with the ruse seems the safest course of action.  Darcy knows how difficult it is to repair the bonds of trust, even among family, once they have been broken.  He knows how long it takes before one begins to feel secure again.

 

"So what brings you to town?" Lizzie asks.

 

Darcy furrows his brow.  "I came to see you," he answers.  He would have thought that was evident, but apparently she still has some difficulty understanding him.  It is disheartening.  Their time together in San Francisco had felt to him like such progress.  He had been so hopeful.

 

Lizzie cocks her head thoughtfully.  "Have you been watching my videos?" she wonders.

 

"I have not," he admits.  At his confession, Lizzie's brow draws down and she purses her lips.  "Should I have been?"  He regrets the question immediately -- it implies a disinterest in her life.

 

Lizzie sighs, tossing her head from side to side.  She squints at something in the distance.  Apparently, the choice to recommend her vlog to him or not is a difficult one.  The longer she deliberates, the more severe his inner chastising of himself grows.

 

"Yeah," she pronounces finally.  "I think you should."

 

He nods.  "I look forward to it.  Do you have a moment?  I realize that calling upon you without making prior arrangements may be inconvenient."

 

"Oh," she says, swallowing hard, "I've got some time."

 

"You told your sister you were busy," he reminds her.  His eyes flicker to the top of the stairs, but in the time in which he was not paying attention to her, Lydia has disappeared.

 

Lizzie waves her hand dismissively.  "That was..independent study stuff, school, you know."

 

He looks away, countenance stern with self-reproach.  "I hope my being unavailable has not been causing any complications in your studies, your time at Pemberley Digital cut short as it was."

 

"Not anything I can't handle," she replies after a moment.

 

He imagines her videos will illuminate any difficulties she has had.

 

"I did not intend --" he begins.

 

"I know," she cuts him off.  "I know."

 

"Please let me know if I can be of any further assistance," he says, but it sounds hollow even to his own ears.  She was surely asking him for that very assistance in the many calls he neglected to pick up during those first few weeks after her departure.

 

"Will do," she answers, but it is theatrical -- fake.  He's already too late.

 

"Lizzie," he begins, "I did come here with a particular intention in mind.  I would be remiss to continue taking up your time without saying what I came to say."

 

"No," Lizzie says suddenly.

 

"No?" he echoes.

 

"Whatever conversation you want to have," Lizzie explains, "I think it should wait until after you've seen my videos."

 

"I must confess I am anxious to discuss this with you," he protests.  

 

She shakes her head.  "Videos."

 

"Surely, it can wait.  I promise you, I will watch them."

 

Lizzie folds her arms and shrugs.  "I think you should watch them first."

 

"Very well."  Darcy reaches behind himself for the door handle.  Though he could easily watch Lizzie's vlog on her own computer or his phone, he has the distinct impression he is being kicked out of her home.  "I will return after I have viewed them.” 

 

***  Duh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh YEAH! ***

 

The first four videos are entirely about Lydia.  Lizzie's disapproval of her choices; Lizzie's growing panic as she realizes the website and sex tape have caught Lydia by just as much surprise as they caught Lizzie; their quietly confused relief as the site and George abruptly disappear from their lives; the agonizing dissolution of sisterly bonds and tentative attempts to rekindle that affection.  The story is certainly captivating and he is glad to see a side of the events other than his own, but it hardly seems required viewing for a meeting with Lizzie.  

 

After the first two weeks, Lizzie's topics of discussion return to herself.  By leaving Pemberley Digital in the middle of her study there, she has put herself in somewhat of a bind.  (She's quick to point out that had she been going to class on campus, she still would have abandoned her studies for her sister.)  Dr. Gardiner, apparently, had assured her that she could write her analysis based on the information she had gathered, but -- most of Lizzie's interviews with the CEO had been turned around and refocused on herself.

 

A CEO who was not answering his phone.

 

The sixth video -- the third Thursday after Darcy put her on that plane -- comes with the tag line "My name is Lizzie Bennet, and I think I blew it."

 

To Lizzie's left, Jane sits, shaking her head.  "You didn't blow anything."

 

"No, no," Lizzie protests.  "I have ruined my education.  I'm not going to graduate on time."  She cocks her head and tells the camera, "I have no idea why I thought independent study was going to be a good idea.  Seriously."  She pauses, lips pursed in thought.  "Nope, can't remember!"

 

"It's not that bad," Jane assures her.

 

From Lizzie's right, Lydia flatly adds, "You only think its the end of the world because you are such a nerd."

 

"I am not going to graduate on time," Lizzie reminds them, voice on the verge of shrill.

 

"Yeah," Lydia huffs.  "That is a nerd problem."

 

"On the plus side," Lizzie declares, swinging a fist in a wide, jolly gesture, "I finally drove off Darcy.  And to think, all this time, all I had to do was actually want him around."  She sighs wistfully at the ceiling, a smile playing on her lips. 

 

Jane offers a weak, "Yay."

 

Lydia's eyes dart toward the camera as she chews the inside of her cheek.

 

The camera cuts to a montage of Lizzie checking her phone, more annoyed with each frame.

 

This ends when Lydia produces the Darcy costume hat from somewhere beyond the sight of the camera and drops it on Lizzie's head.  In a swift motion, Lizzie plucks it off without looking away from her phone.

 

Lydia pouts.  "Darcybot does not compute voice mail?"

 

"Really not in the mood," Lizzie mutters.

 

"You've collected more than enough information for your analysis," Jane says hopefully.  "It is going to be completely fine, you'll see."

 

"You're right, you're right, what would I do without you, Jane?"  Lizzie smiles at her older sister and second-or-first best friend, depending on who is in the room.  "Now is crunch time.  Now I need to roll up my sleeves and show Dr. Gardiner what I've learned and what I can do."

 

Pleased and proud, Jane smiles.  "That's the spirit, Lizzie."

 

"You hated him, anyway!" Lydia adds, throwing her hands up.  "Good riddance!  The Bennet sisters are back, bitches!  The three of us -- that's all we need!"  Quieter, she adds.  "And Mary.  And Charlotte.  Maria."  Lydia waves.

 

"I don't hate him," Lizzie scoffs.

 

Silent and skeptical, her sisters watch her.

 

“I have been,” Lizzie admits haltingly, “forced to admit Darcy is a pretty okay guy.”  Her countenance darkens abruptly, “Is what I would have said if he was _answering his phone._ ”

 

“How’d you even get his number?” Lydia drawls.

 

“Gigi,” Lizzie answers.  “I’ve called her, too, but she’s been weird.  Which is normal....for her...actually.  That family is weird.”

 

“Weird, but pretty okay,” Jane paraphrases.  “Like most families.”

 

“Yeah, I guess,” Lizzie says grudgingly.  “But, yeah, okay, I like William Darcy.  YES, I know.  He’s rude and snobby and has a weirdly big vocabulary for someone who can’t express himself _at all,_ but,” Lizzie shrugs.  “I thought we were friends.”  She frowns at Jane.  “Am I totally off-base with that?”

 

Thoughtfully, Jane hums.  “I don’t think me or Lydia is the right person to ask.”

 

“The person who would know,” Lizzie growls, “isn’t answering his phone.”  She leans back and cocks her head.  “I feel like we’ve been over this.”

 

Lydia pops her eyebrows.  “Way too many times,” she supplies.

 

“It’s just so frustrating,” Lizzie replies.  “He’s actually a big enough jerk that he makes thanking him impossible.  WHO DOES THAT?”

 

“Lizzie,” Jane suggests quietly, “I think you’re trying too hard to be angry.”

 

She raises an eyebrow at her sister.  “Who has to try?  You have to admit, it’s kind of a roller coaster.  I hate him, he loves me, I’m wrong about him, we’re friends, he helps me, he ignores me!  What is this?”

 

Offering a rebuttal, Jane reminds her sister, “You said yourself he’s pretty okay.”

 

Lizzie shakes her head at Jane.  “Why do you want me to like him so much?”

 

Jane tuts softly.  “I don’t want anything, Lizzie.  I’m just not sure what this is really about.”

 

“What it’s really about,” Lizzie echoes.  Exasperated, she huffs, “It’s about this guy being everywhere I turn for months until I am actually looking for him!  It’s about he buys me a plane ticket and a car service and I can’t even say ‘thanks!’  It’s about being wrong about everything since he showed up and I can’t trust myself anymore.  It’s about my future being an enormous question mark.  I think I’m allowed to be frustrated!”

 

“You’re allowed to miss him, too,” Jane adds.

 

“I do not miss him,” Lizzie says flatly.  “I just thought we were friends.”

 

“It’s normal to miss friends,” Lydia says slowly, apparently bewildered at the implication that Lizzie feels the need to counter such a notion.  

 

"Fine,” Lizzie huffs.  “He’s my friend, and I miss him, as people miss friends.  Why do you have to turn this into such a production?”

 

Lydia clicks her tongue.  “You’re the one whose obsessed with him.”

 

“Contrary to popular belief,” Lizzie shakes her head, holding up her finger in a halting motion, “I am not obsessed with William Darcy.  And I am pretty sure that is the second time I have had to say so on one of these videos.  Why is that?”

 

“Because...you talk about him?” Lydia suggests.  “Pretty much all the time.”

 

Lizzie wrinkles her nose.  “I’m not obsessed.”

 

Eyebrows raised, her younger sister challenges: “What do you call it?”

 

“I love him."

 

(Three words, uttered two weeks ago.  Darcy moves the cursor back and replays the exchange three times before he is convinced he heard what he thinks he heard.)

 

Lizzie immediately covers her mouth with her hands.  She’s as shocked at having said it as her viewer is at hearing it.  

 

Jane's eyes dart between the camera and Lizzie as her arms curl around her sister.  "We can cut that," she says softly.

 

"No," Lizzie says, one hand waving away the notion, the other cupped over her face.  "We've kept everything else in."

 

The episode ends there.  Continuing onto the next is a chore Darcy completes only because he gave Lizzie his word that he would watch them all before returning to her.  

 

The next episode feature Lizzie alone, seated in her parents’ den.  “My name is Lizzie Bennet,” she explains, “and there are some things I am tired of hearing about.”  The title card and musical introduction are followed not by Lizzie offering an explanation, but a montage of scenes from past entries of her video diary.  The scenes are cut sporadically with the present day Lizzie, occasionally appearing annoyed, but more often than that, just _bored_.

 

The montage itself consists entirely of Lizzie (as herself) complaining about, or cursing the name of, Darcy.  It ends dramatically -- past Lizzie throwing her arms wide and screaming F___!  (Insult aside, he has always found that moment artfully edited; it fully expresses everything it needs to without voicing the expletive itself.)

 

“Yeah.”  Present-day (time-stamp last week) Lizzie says.  “Sick of that.  Also, I was busy this week, so this video was half-assed.  Yay.  But clips shows are staples of most long-running scripted shows.”  She shrugs.  “Tune in next week -- actually, Thursday -- for new content, yeah!”  Lizzie pumps both fists in the air.  “Hopefully!  Don’t know what it’s going to be yet.  That was a horrible closer!”

 

The final video begins with Lizzie and Lydia.  The former watches her sister silently, the entirety of her focus on Lydia.  After a few seconds of dead air, Lizzie explains, “Lydia wanted to talk.  With the camera on.”  Her body is thrumming with tension and sisterly concern.

 

Beside Lizzie, Lydia rocks back and forth.  She pulls her lips back and through her teeth admits, “It was Darcy.”

 

Lizzie’s eyebrows raise.  “What was Darcy?”

 

“Darcy,” Lydia sings, “Took down the server hosting the sex tape site and scared off George.”

 

Lizzie’s jaw drops.  “What?”

 

“He didn’t want me to tell you,” Lydia says flatly.

 

“What?” Lizzie echoes.

 

“Yeeeeaaaah,” she draws out.  “He didn’t want you think you owed him or whatever.”  She rolls her eyes.

 

Clearly stunned, Lizzie breaths, “Wow.”

 

Lydia curls her lip and continues her sway.  “Totes do, though.” 

 

“Hey,” Lizzie protests, “wouldn’t you owe him?”

 

Her sister cackles.  “I’m not the one he wants to booty call!”  

 

“Lydia,” Lizzie protests, crinkling her nose.  “Gross.”

 

Scoffing, Lydia replies, “Like you’d say no if he showed up looking for some action.  Oh, never mind!  You did!”  She turns to the camera and clicks her tongue.  “Reason number four why Lizzie Bennet is perpetually single.”

 

Confused, Lizzie points out, “Wait, you had that list long before Darcy...”

 

Lydia shrugs.

 

Lizzie folds her arms.  “I want to see this list.”

 

“LEO, sis, that is Lydia’s eyes only!”

 

Lizzie frowns, and asks, “He really told you not to tell me?”

 

Lydia rolls her shoulders and folds her own arms.  “Really.”  She smiles, pleased.

 

“So you’re telling me on camera,” Lizzie states.

 

Lydia throws her arms above her head and declares gleefully, “I’m not trustworthy!  And anyway,” she adds, “all our viewers at home want to know what happened.  The mystery angle was not a satisfying story arc.”

 

“What do you know about story arcs?” Lizzie wonders.

 

“I know plot points need to be resolved for the audience to get closure.”

 

“Not strictly true,” Lizzie protests, “but I’m still kind of impressed.  How long did you know it was him?”

 

“Whole time.”

 

“Why did you wait so long to say something?” Lizzie wonders.

 

Lydia sighs.  “He really wanted me not to.”  She shrugs, then chirps.  “But you’re my sister and I have to take your side over him.”

 

“Thanks, Lydia.”

 

She’s coy when she says, “You’re welcome.”

 

“Huh.  Is this why he’s been avoiding me?”

 

“Super is.”

 

Lizzie frowns.  “Have you,” she begins slowly, “been talking to him?”

 

The youngest Bennet groans loudly.  “I know you are obsessed with him, but _the rest of us are not._ We talked, like, twice.  It was boring techie nerd computer stuff.”

 

Lizzie opens her mouth, closes it and turns to the camera with a tight smile.  “I am not going to lecture my baby sister,” she tells the audience.  “I am going to _assume_ \--” this word is said with entirely too much weight “that Lydia is mature and responsible and knows that when someone does something like this for her, she should thank him and not call him boring.”

 

_“Wow, sis,”_ Lydia mutters, put out, “even when you are not judging, it sounds exactly like judging.”

 

“That is the sound of faith,” Lizzie corrects.  She doesn’t say it with quite the intonation that she uses to imitate her mother, but it is very close.  “Lizzie Bennet does not judge.”  

 

The sisters survey one another.  Lizzie breaks first.  “Seriously, though, you did thank him.  Right?”  

 

***  Duh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh YEAH! ***

 

Lizzie opens the door.  She steps out onto the porch, quickly drawing the door shut behind her.  "My mother is home," she says by way of explanation.  Darcy can't be sure what, exactly, is Lizzie's issue with his potentially interacting with her mother.  The possibilities are numerous.

 

Before he arrived at her home the first time, Darcy had had a speech prepared in his mind.  He can't remember any of it anymore.  Her videos, the speed -- which he can only interpret as eagerness -- at which she shut them away from the rest of her household to give them privacy.  Whatever he had intended to say is gone from his mind.  He can feel his pulse pounding all the way up to his throat.  He can't make eye contact.

 

After several false starts, Darcy suggests, "Would you like to go for a drive?"

 

He sees what he thinks is a smile out of his peripheral vision.  He can't even look at her.  Somehow, being as positive as he has ever been that she will accept his overtures has made him more nervous.

 

The silence as they pull away from the curb in his rented convertible is awkward.  It is broken by Lizzie, brilliant Lizzie, who has no trouble finding the words to articulate her ideas.  He's jealous of her mouth...words are powerful tools that she is adept at wielding.  

 

"Thank you," Lizzie says.  "For everything.  For Lydia and for just getting me home."

 

He grips the gear shift.  "There's no need to thank me."

 

"There's every need," Lizzie protests.  "I'll never be able to stop thanking you."

 

Darcy clears his throat.  "I did not do it for accolades."

 

"I know," she replies.  "That's what makes it even more amazing."  Her choice of phrasing -- even more amazing -- catches him and will not release him.  "If Lydia hadn't said anything, I would have just never known."

 

It takes him some time to find the words, but Darcy can say as much: "I respect you.  It is never my intention to lie to you, Lizzie.  And this -- though I did for you -- I felt it best that you not feel as though you have a debt hanging over you."

 

"She's my baby sister, Darcy.  I have known her for her entire life, and I have never done as good a job as you at protecting her.  When I try, she just gets angry."

 

This is one of the few subjects on which they can relate.  They may live in different worlds, but they are both elder siblings.  "I believe Gigi has been candid on the subject of not always being pleased with me?"

 

"But she has your back."

 

"You think Lydia doesn't have yours?"

 

"Lydia's idea of helping out is manipulating people into getting drunk,” Lizzie says.  “At least, it was..."

 

Darcy tips his head.  "And Gigi's idea of helping out is shutting two people who have yet to have a civil conversation in an office with a camera."

 

He takes it as encouragement when she says, "It worked out."

 

He takes a deep breath to steady himself.  "It did."

 

"Speaking of the camera," Lizzie suggests haltingly, "we should probably discuss the elephant in the room that I like to call episode 90."

 

"I prepared what I intended to say before I came here," Darcy interrupts.  "I have been unable to remember any of it since I watched your videos.  My apologizes if what I am about to say may appear crass or forward -- you didn't blow anything.  Your future is not uncertain; you are a gifted storyteller with a passion for stories.  You will be successful.  You resonate with people, you inspire.  You reach us.  You make us reevaluate ourselves.  That is a gift, Lizzie, and it will be recognized.  As for myself, my feelings have not changed.  If you have decided for any reason, before or since that episode, that I am still not what you desire, I accept that.  You owe me no explanations, not anymore than you do thanks."

 

“I do owe you thanks,” Lizzie protests.  “And there was a reason that I wanted you to watch my videos before we talked.  Not because you deserve to know as much about what you’re getting into as the average YouTuber -- which you do -- and it wasn’t just because I suddenly forgot how to talk when you showed up, either.  Though,” she pauses, “I did do that...”  She laughs a bit, self-deprecatingly.  “I talk a lot!  This shouldn’t be this hard!”

 

He wants to tell her to cut to the chase -- _yes or no_ \-- but she allowed him his piece, and Darcy must return the favor.

 

“The order,” she explains, “the order of the videos is important.  I loved -- I could admit I love you -- before I knew what you did.  That you are basically my entire family’s hero is not why I love you.”

 

It takes him a long, long time to find his voice again.  When he does, he asks -- with genuine curiosity -- “May I ask why?”

 

She laughs, and the moment is perfect.  “I have every reason in the world to love you.”

 


End file.
